Travelling by Cayuco on the Cocle del Norte

After a grueling and extremely bumpy three hour packed into the covered bed of a pickup truck with fifteen friendly campesinos -- during which I was primarily concentrating upon not slamming my big gringo skull into the web of steel crossbars that ran overhead -- we arrived in the quiet mountain town of Coclesito. From here, we hoped to catch a cayuco (sort of a large, flat-backed canoe with a small outboard motor) to transport us down the Cocle del Norte river to the Caribbean. We found two guys willing to do it, which was lucky considering that it was already after 5pm when we arrived in town and daylight was already beginning to dwindle. The price was steeper than expected: $90. But we wanted to get going and forked over the cash. The three hour trip down the river turned out to be a highlight of the trip. We meandered among ancient-looking trees, waved at friendly solo fishermen in small cayucos, smelled the acrid smoke of burning forests, and watched hundreds of bats skimming insects off the water as dark fell.

We arrived in the town of Cocle del Norte in the humid, salty, Caribbean night -- miles from the nearest city of any size -- hoping to catch a boat over to some cabins rumored to be nearby. But, it was dark and a good deal of drinking was in progress, so we were told that someone would bring us in the morning. This left us standing around awkwardly (actually, more awkwardly than usual, since standing around looking big and clumsy is my modus operandi in Latin America) and wondering what to do next. After some talk, we were offered the floor of a room in a house that was being renovated, referred to hereafter as the Cocle del Norte Hilton. The people of Cocle del Norte were very kind to us -- sharing beer, booze, and conversation late into the evening -- even though it seems pretty certain they had never had a pair of dazed gringos schlep into town looking for a place to crash for the night.